


'Til I Reach You

by suitsflash (bikeross)



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: CIA Agent Harvey Specter, CIA Agent Louis Litt, Chuck AU, M/M, Mike works at Apple, Some marijuana usage, Stoner Mike Ross, Underachieving Mike Ross, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 13:47:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17044865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bikeross/pseuds/suitsflash
Summary: A Chuck AU. When important government secrets are leaked into the brain of Mike Ross, he has to navigate through the literal and figurative minefield that is the world of the CIA. Of course when his handler is quite possibly the most beautiful man alive, what's a Mike to do?





	'Til I Reach You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joni_Beloni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joni_Beloni/gifts).



> Confession, Chuck is one of my most favorite shows, so when I saw the prompt I just had to indulge myself. I hope this is the beginning of a whole new verse.

The drag of his feet across the pavement makes one thing extremely obvious. Mike Ross is not meant for this life.

His knees protest every second, his back is in sore need of an adjustment, and he can’t help but wonder if he’s remembered to save his Fallout progress.

Vaulting himself across a rooftop, he lands on his hands and knees across the barrier.

“Well, that was kinda sick,” he tells himself before promptly puking his guts behind the dumpster. If only he had a time machine, Mike might never have opened that stupid email from Kyle.

His earpiece fell on his run, so he scrambles to grab the cellphone, groaning when he sees twelve missed calls from— 

_Harvey Specter Calling_

He presses the answer button and holds the phone up to his ear.

“You know the earpiece isn’t optional, right, Rookie?” Harvey asks. 

Mike detects a barely disguised hint of worry. It causes his lips to quirk up, and he’ll respond in a minute with some snark, but sandwiched around the worry is a rage that Mike feels like he should address first.

“It fell out,” he can only offer as a half assed explanation.

He can hear Louis squawking angrily behind Harvey and he’s thankful he doesn’t have both voices in his ear.

“You were supposed to stay in the car,” Harvey says once Mike’s caught his breath. “Ya ain’t a spy. What were you thinking?”

Mike peers up from behind the dumpster and he immediately ducks back down as armed gunmen patrol on the roof across from him.

And honestly. He doesn’t have a good answer for Harvey. Not even a little. 

Groaning, Mike buried his head in his hands, curling up into the corner as best as he can. “I don’t know,” he hisses into the receiver. “I was thinking that I really don’t wanna die.”

Harvey curses on the other end as Mike hears a round of gunshots. “Well, hold tight. I’ll be right there.”

“There? Where? Do you know where I am?” Mike asks as he pats his chest up and down for any planted tracker devices.

“The corner of Lexington and 63rd,” Harvey says easily.

Mike is impressed. “How did you know?” He asks, eyes wide.

“The hot dog stand guy right underneath you. I recognize his accent.”

Mike peers over the edge of the roof at the hot dog stand guy. “Really?” He asks.

“I’m tracking your phone, Rookie,” Harvey says not even bothering to disguise the combination of worry and fondness mixed with irritation in his voice.

Mike’s expression hardens and he purses his lips. “Oh. Right. I forgot.”

“How many people are there?” Harvey asks, abruptly changing the subject. 

After a quick bounce up to check, Mike counts each and every agent and takes note of the weapons they’re carrying.

“Six,” he says before rattling off the weapon makes and models.

There’s an impressed laugh on the other end. At least--Mike hopes that it’s the sounds of an impressed laugh. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.” 

“Really?” Mike counters. “I thought it was my can do attitude and my winning smile.” 

“Don’t push it,” Harvey counters. “Okay if I tell you to sit tight, are you going to listen to me?”

 Mike shrugs. “I’ll think about it.”

“Mike.”

“Alright. Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Good boy.”

\----

Two days ago

\--- 

“Okay if you don’t get this, it’s all over,” Trevor says, watching as Mike’s eyes remain concentrated on the screen.

Mike’s expression remains pensive and calm as he begins the process for defusing the bomb. If he fails even at a single wire, it’s all over for both of them. 

_5….4….3….2...1_

The clock goes off and suddenly the screen lights up.

SUCCESS. 

Mike drops the controller and turns to high five his friend before taking a drag of their shared joint. 

“Dude. I almost thought you’d get blown up,” Trevor says, taking the shared joint back. 

Mike laughs before shrugging. “What can I say? I’m just an expert spy.”

He pulls up the save menu and hits save before turning off the television. He’s pleasantly high after his hellish retail shift--correction, hellish _holiday_ retail shift. And now he’s ready to sit back, relax, and enjoy the high after beating his espionage video game for the sixth time.

“Rough shift?” Trevor finally asks, cutting the silence.

Mike nods, dropping to the ground in front of the couch. “Why buy an iPhone if you’re not gonna even try to figure out how it works?”

He’s still in his Apple shirt, not even bothering to change--he’s just that exhausted. The thing is, it was never supposed to be his job. Mike’s dreamt about going into the CIA ever since his parents left him at his Grammy’s doorstep so long ago. Something contributed to their disappearance, and he’s spent his entire life trying to find out where they’ve managed to head off to.

After getting an acceptance into Harvard’s pre-law program, Mike just assumed he’d be studying to work for the CIA one day--that was until his friend and classmate, Kyle Durant, had sold him out for cheating and gotten him kicked out in his third year.

Returning to New York, Mike did the odd jobs every once in awhile before getting himself settled at the Apple Store in Grand Central Station, working up to eventually becoming a Genius. Fixing phones. And computers.

But it’s not all bad, he gets a discount sometimes. And ever since he got his best friend Trevor a job on the sales floor, it’s not all bad. 

He’s snapped back into reality when Trevor finally speaks. 

“I don’t even know, I mean, I guess I do since I sell the phones,” Trevor points out with a slight laugh. But it’s not the job that brings in the dough--they both know it.

“Dude I’m telling you, go part time, you still get the discounts and I can get you a sweet gig selling pot on the side,” Trevor says, standing up and walking around the small Bushwick apartment. He stretches his arms out behind him and then in front.

Mike huffs. “Trevor. You’re more likely to die selling drugs then you are on death row in Texas,” he says, rattling off a passage from one of his favorite books. 

Trevor scoffs. “Yeah says who?”

“It’s from _Freakonomics,_ ” Mike says. “Dude don’t you read anything I give you?”

“If it doesn’t have tits or ass, I don’t pay attention.” Trevor shrugs.

Well, at least he’s honest.

“Anyways, gotta head back to the apartment. Jenny’s making risotto,” Trevor says, getting up. “You working tomorrow?”

 Mike nods. “Yep,” he says, trailing off. “Morning shift.”

“Same,” Trevor responds. “See you then, bud.” He grabs Mike’s hand before pulling him into a hug.

Mike sighs after Trevor leaves, making sure everything is relatively cleared up in the living room before he collapses in bed, still clothed from his shift earlier today.

Pulling out his phone, he notices there’s an unread email from an old Harvard classmate. 

* * *

**  
From: _Kyle Durant (kdurant@cia.gov)_**

Subject: National Security

<< Click to view Attachment>>

* * *

 

Curiosity getting the better of Mike, he clicks on the attachment.

A torrent of images and videos invade the screen and Mike begins to process it all before he’s overwhelmed, and the next thing he knows it’s morning.

He blinks a few times, his phone buzzing in alarm as it alerts him that his shift is due to start in an hour and a half.

Cursing, Mike rolls out of bed and drags himself into his shower, not even thinking about the amount of information trapped in his brain.

His phone glitches once before Mike hops on his bike to get to work. But he thinks nothing of it. His head hurts, but he chalks it up to the strain of weed Trevor got the night before. He’ll definitely have to ask him to switch suppliers.

It’s a relatively slow day today, after taking a few appointments, Mike perches himself behind the bar, leaning over the solid oak tables, watching the various going ons around him when Trevor jabs his side.

“So I think I found a buyer--you think you can help me with the drop?” He asks, well out of view of the managers.

Mike purses his lips. “I told you, I’m busy,” he says, swiping through the iPad in his hands. 

“Come on,” Trevor begs.

“No.” Mike says, pulling up the latest tech news, catching up on the newest malware porn bot.

“Oh my god it’s James Bond,” Trevor says, his eyes widening, and Mike glances up, his eyes settling on one of the most gorgeous men he’s ever seen.

He’d read in some sources that the suit makes the man but this man _made_ the suit. The iPad clatters from his hand onto the ground, and the gorgeous human being bends down to pick it up.

At some point Trevor’s left to go back onto the floor but Mike remains transfixed to the spot.

There’s a moment where the mysterious stranger and Mike are making eye contact and he’s pretty sure the world’s stopped around them.

“Uh. Thank-thank you,” Mike says, attempting to be smooth while taking back the iPad. “Mr.--” He trails off 

“Specter. Harvey Specter,” Harvey says, and Mike can swear that his knees are going to buckle right then and there.

There’s a silence before Harvey clears his throat and Mike realizes that this is the moment he’s supposed to talk.

“Um. Yeah. Mike. Ross. I’m Mike--help, can I do that?” Mike asks, pausing to reframe the question in his head. “Right. How can I help you?”

Harvey slides his phone over. “It won’t charge.”

Mike nods, taking the phone. “Ah, oh, I see,” he says, inspecting the port. Pulling out a sim tool, he cleans the lint out of the charging port. “They like to collect dust. I tell them to stop but…” He trails off before shrugging. “It’s not a great collection.”

“Wow. You’re pretty good,” Harvey says, a small smile on his face.

Mike holds his gaze and for a moment it feels like the world just stops around them. He’s about to do it, he’s going to ask Harvey out for drinks.

But then, behind him, an associate interrupts.

“Uh, Mike, we need you to deescalate a situation.”

“Duty calls,” Mike says, by way of apology, his blue eyes never leaving Harvey’s.

Harvey laughs and hands him his card. “Well. Call me,” he says before winking in Mike’s direction.

Mike blinks a few times and stares down at the obviously very pricey card.

He slips it into his back pocket, fully intending on calling him later.

 ---

Jessica Pearson’s Office - Director of the CIA

\---

Jessica leans back in her chair, reading up on the dossier Louis has prepared on the mark. “And you think you should be able to access his database?” She asks as Harvey steps into the room.

Louis nods.

“Very well,” she says, closing Kyle’s file. “Do it.”  
  
“Hold on,” Harvey says, looking between them. “Let’s not touch him,” he says, a frown on his lips. “I think I can get into his apartment and steal his backup drive. Kid works in tech, he has to have a backup.”

Jessica frowns. “Okay, Harvey, if you think you can do this quietly, go in, retrieve the data, and come back. No witnesses.”

Harvey nods and turns on his heel to leave, but not before winking at Louis, teasing him. As he’s always done. 

Louis seethes in return, his eyes narrowing.

But Harvey elects to ignore that, keeping a spring in his step as he leaves the room. Time to take care of things and go back to DC.

\----

Bushwick - NY

\---

While pedaling home, Mike’s gotten the distinct feeling that he’s being followed, and not in a good way. So he elects to take a more roundabout way to get back to his place.

Mike returns home on his bike, locking it at the post before he heads up the stairs to his studio. The holidays cause his body to ache in ways that he never imagined working tech support ever would.

When he gets to his floor, his hackles rise as he gets the distinct feeling he’s not entirely on his own, so he rounds the corner, his bike helmet in hand and at bludgeoning height.

He’s about to strike down when he hears Trevor’s voice.

“Dude! It’s me.”

Mike curses and jumps back. He frowns, looking at Trevor, dropping the bike helmet and clutching at the wall. 

“You couldn’t tell me you were coming in advance?”

“Since when have I ever?”

Mike relents. It’s true. Trevor’s always there. It’s--annoying. But also part of his odd charm.

He unlocks the door, facing back at Trevor, about to chastise him for always invading his privacy when he notices Trevor’s jaw drop open. Mike’s head turns as he peeks into his apartment when he sees a man dressed in all black, face hidden, rummaging through his things.

Cursing, Mike immediately scrambles to grab whatever he can to thwart the burglar. He knew he should have opted for the renter’s insurance.

Reaching out, the nearest thing he can find is a bong, and he goes racing after the intruder, cracking it over his arm before the mysterious man vaults out of his window.

Mike’s left standing with a broken bong in his hand while Trevor’s cowering in the doorway.

 “DUDE! What was that?” Trevor asks, his eyes wide in shock.

“I don’t know,” Mike says, wondering what the hell his life is turning into. He’s just an underachieving retail worker, this--all of this is just too much for him.

 Never to let any moment stay off of him too long, Trevor looks at Mike. “So….joint?” He asks, grinning innocently.

Mike sighs. This is going to be a lot of explaining.

\--

Harvey rips off his mask in frustration two blocks down. Nothing. No hard drives, and he couldn’t even get his hands on Mike’s computer.

He pulls out his phone and dials Jessica’s number. 

She’s not going to be pleased.

 ----

Best Buy - 42nd St and 5th Avenue

\---

He’s going to have to invest in some sort of camera system. At least. Mike’s got a few insurance options listed, but after the near miss, he knows that he’s going to have to keep an eye out in his apartment for potential robberies. 

He thought Bushwick was safe--apparently he’s wrong.

As he walks through the normally empty aisle, there’s a person who’s been following him nearby. And Mike can feel his hackles rise again.

He turns down another aisle and slips down the staircase to head down to a lower level.

Mike’s about to inform one of the other employees that there’s something sketchy going on when he sees that the mysterious man following him is now checking out at the counter.

Narrow miss.

But he’s still not sure.

He purchases the camera and walks down Lexington Avenue, happy for the cover among the crowd of people as he heads back to Grand Central.

Taking a deep breath, he calms himself down. It’s the holidays, so, he doesn’t suspect that the management team will be particularly sympathetic to his current paranoias.

 ---

Harvey watches as Mike heads to work and a flash of irritation crosses his face when his phone buzzes.

It’s Jessica. It’s always Jessica.

“So you weren’t able to retrieve it; you do realize that means I have to send in Louis?”

 “Jessica, when have I ever let you down?”

“....”

“Don’t answer that.”

 “Harvey, my hands are tied, it’s my superiors up at Langley driving this.” Jessica sighs. “And if Louis gets his hands on him, he’s dead.”

 “I’m not gonna let that happen,” he says.

“I know you won’t,” Jessica responds before there’s the telltale click of the phone hanging up.

 Harvey curses, putting the phone in his pocket.

\----

Grand Central Station -- Apple Store

\---

Mike’s about to bash his head in after the third appointment in a row dealing with accidental damage and customers trying to get a free repair out of it.

He’s exhausted, and as a lead, he shouldn’t have to be taking these appointments, but he is. And he’s about to step off the floor to work on some administrative things when he sees Harvey in line.

 Stepping forward, he pulls Harvey aside, cocking his head.

“I thought I fixed your phone yesterday,” he says, barely unable to cover the grin spread wide across his face.

Harvey laughs. “Well, clearly it didn’t work. It’s not receiving calls now.”

Mike frowns. A blocked charging port doesn’t have anything to do with call reception. He’s about to argue as such when Harvey holds out a hand and he closes his mouth immediately.

“Because, I haven’t gotten a call from you so my phone has to be broken, right?”

 Mike blinks. That. Was smooth. 

And somehow he remains unconvinced that a man in a suit that expensive would ever want to ask out a shabbily dressed bike messenger like him. But that’s neither here nor there.

“Dinner and drinks tonight?” He offers, by way of apology.

Harvey nods. “I’m looking forward to it.”

And with that, Harvey leaves the store. Mike watches from the balcony as his date heads downstairs and he sends Harvey the name of his favorite restaurant and a time to meet.

\---

East Village - Miso Ya Ramen

\---

Mike gets the text that Harvey’s there when the subway stops at 14th Street. Right before his stop.

Of course he’s late, but navigating the public transit system in New York is always a huge gamble. Since it takes hours to get anywhere.

Once he gets there, his jaw drops. If he thought Harvey was handsome in a suit, he’s never thought that someone could look better in casual clothes. He’s wearing a dark grey henley and dark wash jeans, and Mike can feel the entire knowledge of the English language slipping out of his head.

He manages to tear off his own coat and drape it at the back of his chair before sitting down across from Harvey.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m really sorry I’m late.”

Harvey laughs. “Just don’t make a habit of it,” he says. “I ordered two glasses of wine, figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Mike shakes his head, still trying to come up with words. So he takes a sip of the Cab and lets it settle down his throat.

Maybe a nice buzz will help. 

When their food arrives, they’re chatting like old friends, and Mike finds his eyes drawn to Harvey’s hand, wondering if it’d be too forward to reach out and grab it. So he settles on drinking for now.

“Wait. You’re a Trekkie?” Mike asks, trying to frame that knowledge against his apparent misconceptions of the expensive three piece suit type.

“Hey, Captain Kirk’s the man,” Harvey says, by way of response.

 Mike laughs. “I’ve never seen it. I grew up on a steady diet of Star Wars and Batman.”

“Kilmer or Bale?” Harvey asks arching an eyebrow.

The corners of Mike’s lips quirk up. “Keaton,” he responds. And it seems to be the right answer for Harvey. 

“Very good,” he says.

 Mike laughs as he twirls the noodles around with his chopsticks. “Well, if we’re being honest, nothing beats the Animated Series.”

 “I’ll have to check it out,” Harvey responds.

They settle into a quiet easy companionship Mike’s never felt with anyone before, and he finishes his food, finally deciding to reach out and take Harvey’s hand. Harvey’s fingers curl around his and Mike is more than thrilled.

 When the check comes, Harvey takes it and after surviving a glare from Mike, the two head out of the restaurant in the direction of the jazz club Mike suggested.

“I’ll have to show you my record collection,” Harvey says. “I don’t have it all here since I just got into town, but when it comes in.”

Mike chuckles. “Is this your way of asking me on a second date?”

“And possibly a third,” Harvey responds, stopping in the middle of the street. A smile crosses his face and he takes Mike’s chin in his hand.

Mike feels his heart jump into his throat and he leans forward, smiling as their lips meet in a kiss.

 “Definitely a third,” Harvey says, his expression softening when he looks at Mike.

 Mike tugs his lower lip between his teeth, and glances back at Harvey, a smile crossing his face. “Good,” he says with a laugh.

 Their joy is short lived when Mike notices Harvey’s expression change.

 He frowns, knitting his eyebrows together when Harvey pulls him behind him. “Follow me, don’t ask any questions.”

 Mike immediately has a thousand questions and begins barraging Harvey with them as they duck down St. Mark’s place. “What’s happening? Oh god, I don’t want to die,” he says. “I’m literally just a retail--”

 “Shut up,” Harvey commands before opening a car door.

 Mike looks at the car and then back at Harvey. “Oh no, I’m not getting into that car.”

 Harvey huffs. “You said you didn’t want to die. Well. Come with me if you want to live.”

 “Terminator? Now?” Mike asks, sliding into the passenger seat.

 Harvey can’t help but laugh as he turns the ignition. But soon his expression stills into a frown as he hedges on what to say next.  “Do you know Kyle Durant?” he says as they begin racing down to the FDR freeway.

 Mike frowns. “Yeah. I went to school with him, he was my roommate--he got me kicked outta Harvard.”

“That’s it?” Harvey asks. “He hasn’t been in touch with you?”

Mike shakes his head. “No we weren’t really friends. Wait--no he has. He--uh. He sent me an email.”

“What was in that email?” 

“Nothing! It made my phone glitch out. I like didn’t see anything and then it was gone,” Mike counters.

 Harvey huffs and stops the car at the docks. “Did you back it up anywhere?” He asks, an undercurrent of desperation in his voice as a bunch of other cars pull up around them.

Mike shakes his head. “Um, no it was my phone? Are you gonna tell me what’s happening?” He’s trying to fumble with the lock on the car door, getting out when Harvey pulls a gun to him.

“I can’t let you leave, Mike,” he says.

Gun to his head, Mike’s stuck. He clenches his jaw before closing his eyes, releasing his hold on the door. His body’s shaking and he’s fighting very hard to not let the tears fall down his face.

“Stay here,” Harvey commands.

Mike nods out his assent. “I’m gonna just say the second date is cancelled,” he hisses to himself as Harvey heads out. He rolls down the window however to overhear what Harvey’s saying to the mysterious big scary people.

Though the one that looks like a rat and a chipmunk had a baby seems to be the leader of the pack.

Harvey stands his ground, gun drawn.

“You can’t have him,” Harvey says.

“He’s already mine,” Louis responds with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “Now hand over the backup and we might let your boytoy live in a cell.”

Harvey huffs in resignation. “There’s no backup. No hard drive.”

Louis curses. “What the hell, Harvey? What are we supposed to go back and tell Jessica? This is absolutely absurd. Also what kind of idiot child doesn’t back up their own computer?”

At that, Mike steps out of the car. “I opened the attachment on my phone. And I’m not a child,” he reiterates. “I’m a grown man.” 

Louis scoffs before he looks at Harvey. “Really, Specter?”

Harvey rolls his eyes. “Mike,” he says, releasing a breath. “Look. Just. Go back to the Chilton and we’ll figure this--” 

And with that, Mike is suddenly transported out of the scope of the conversation. His eyes widen as he realizes what’s happening. “He’s going to die!” Mike interjects, not knowing where the sudden fearlessness came from. 

Though. The fearlessness turns into fear really quickly.

Both Harvey and Louis turn to him.

“At the Chilton? Right? The ambassador from Kosovo is there, the CIA intercepted a bunch of blueprints of the hotel from Russian intelligence agents and now--well, now that he’s here, they planted a bomb. We have to get uptown.”

 

Harvey gives Louis a look and with a shrug of his shoulders, he cedes the floor to him.

Grumbling, Louis slides open the door to his van. “Get in,” he hisses. “But god help me if you’re wrong, you’re going into a windowless cell for the rest of your life,” he says to Mike, who’s coincidentally shaking again. 

As the van resumes careening down the city, this time with both Harvey and Mike in it, Journey’s _Anyway You Want It_ starts playing and Harvey begins to crack up.

“Really Louis? This song?”

“Only during a car chase,” Louis grouses, staring daggers into the side of Harvey’s face.

Harvey turns to Mike, admiring him. “How do you even remember all that?” He asks. 

Mike shrugs. “I uh…I have a photographic memory. Well...it’s not really photographic, it’s more, once I see something, I understand it, and once I understand it, I won’t ever forget it.” His leg shakes underneath him and Harvey settles his hand on his leg, strong, firm, grounding him. 

And the realization dawns on all three of them at the same time. Kyle knew about Mike’s memory.

Mike didn’t just have the server.

Mike Ross _was_ the server.

It goes unsaid but the implications are going to have very far reaching consequences. None of which seem to bode well for Mike who’s started tapping his foot in agitated silence.

“Good job,” he says. “You’re going to save a lot of lives today.”

Mike’s about to respond when the van comes to a screeching halt.

“Stay in the van,” Harvey says, handing Mike an earpiece. “We’ll be here over the comms. 

Mike nods, inserting the earpiece in terribly, watching as Louis and Harvey jump into action.

It’s not until they’re gone that he realizes--they don’t know how to defuse the bomb. And he’ll need to have eyes on it in order to do it.

He throws open the door, and before the other agents can protest, he vaults himself up an emergency escape

\----

Back on the Roof

\--- 

Mike can’t deny the thrill shooting through his body when Harvey says _Good Boy_ to him, and that honestly propels him to get out of hiding, ducking when the bullets fly around him.

He feels a brief stinging around his ankle but ignores it, reaching the ticking bomb with minutes to spare.

After dispatching the other agents, he feels Harvey approach behind him, watching as Mike begins going through the instructions for defusing the bomb.

And with a click, their intel is proven to be correct and the bomb falls apart.

When the timer stops at 0:10, Mike slumps over, leaning back into Harvey’s immediate embrace.

He laughs, turning around to hug Harvey, his body shaking out of the pure adrenaline of literally saving an entire city block.

“Come on, Rookie,” Harvey says, arm staying wrapped around Mike’s shoulders.

Mike follows him, taking several deep breaths, unable to come up with anything remotely cognizant to say.

He barely registers walking down a flight of stairs. It’s not until they get into an elevator that Mike has some control over his senses.

Sensing his unease, Harvey reaches down and takes his hand, and Mike grips onto it like a lifeline.

Louis scoffs, but it’s clear this is a big win.

They’re in a suite at the Chilton a few minutes later, Mike’s cuddled up in a large fluffy blanket, hot chocolate from Harvey in hand.

He’s tempted to stand when a military general marches into the room, but Harvey keeps a hand on his shoulder.

“Good work,” the severe woman says.

“Thank you,” Louis adds when Jessica holds up a hand.

“Not you.” Her gaze falls on Mike. “You saved hundreds of lives today,” she says. “You’ll be an excellent asset on our team.”

Mike frowns. “What?” Did he just get a job working for the CIA? 

“You mean I’ll be a spy?” He asks.

“No,” Jessica corrects. “An asset. You’re untrained, and, therefore, bound to be a liability.”

Mike frowns. “What does that mean?”

“No.” Harvey counters, as both he and Louis realize the implications of this.

Louis chuckles. “What Harvey means is that. You’ll be taken to a remote off satellite facility to live out the rest of your days in service to the United States Government.”

“That’s unfair,” Harvey says. “You saw what he did out there?”

“Yeah. Pure luck. We need what’s in his head. Not him,” Louis argues.

Mike sets the cocoa down and stands up. “No,” he says firmly.

Jessica arches an eyebrow. “No?” She asks.

“As far as I see it,” Mike says, willing his voice not to crack. “It’s my brain that has the information. You need me. And I’m not going to go and leave my friends and family here. So no.”

Harvey’s impressed, so he takes a seat next to Mike, leaning back.

Jessica looks a touch impressed as well, though she’s also irritated.

“I want to go home,” Mike says. “And….I want a ride. I don’t want to go on the subway.” He nods.

Jessica rolls her eyes. “Fine,” she says. “Go. But wait outside for a minute.”

Harvey and Louis stay back in the office.

“He can’t just do that,” Louis sputters.

“Well, he just did,” Harvey responds, pride etched in his expression.

Jessica looks between both of them. “So you’ll both stay and keep an eye on him. As long as he’s here, he’s a moving target. He’s your asset. I’ll put in a report to Langley and we’ll see where we go from there.”

Louis nods once, though he’s clearly unhappy.

\----

Mike paces outside, his hands are still shaking as he goes over the events of the night again and again.

His gaze softens when he sees Harvey heading towards him, and he responds enthusiastically to the kiss Harvey presses to his lips.

“You win,” he says. “But that just means I’ll have to stay and keep an eye on you.” 

Mike laughs, his forehead resting against Harvey’s. “Thanks,” he says. 

“We’ll figure this out together.” Harvey says, tilting his head before he leans down to capture another kiss.

“We,” Mike repeats. 

And he has no doubts they will. 

\----- FIN -----

  
  



End file.
